Scarves
by Wolven-Harpy
Summary: Inspiration from one of the chapters: Percy comes across Aphrodite's perfumed scarf and smells it. PercyxOC


I collapsed on my bed as soon as I got in, the long journey took forever. Gabe didn't seem to be in due to the non-existent raucous laughter and shouting I was so used to while Gabe was here; before I left to go to Camp Half Blood, before I knew who I was, before I knew who my _father _was even. It had been a long summer being at the camp, and rather boring compared to the previous. It was only a year of training, making new friends and enemies as you would in such a vast place. I turned over to stare at the blank wall before me, the paper was peeling more and more each time I came into this room, I noticed the difference mainly because of the fact each time I visited, it would be a long time until I would again. I sighed longingly. My mother was obviously at work, she probably wouldn't be home until very late, or later, finding ideas, inspration. I figeted, was the job more demanding than Gabe? Was she happy? I eased my mind, she'll be fine as long as it isn't killing her, afterall, it was practically her dream job. She and Annabeth were the only two people I had trusted on Earth, Grover was now gone for more than a year now with no contact or news, but it wasn't like I wasn't expecting it, yet I missed him more than anything. The same old arguement raged in my head whether I should accept that Grover were dead or to still hope he could come back. My mind wandered back to my only friends. Annabeth was a tricky, unpredictable person who liked nothing more than to talk down to me, but nonetheless she was a very good friend who was there when you needed her, afterall it was literally in her blood.

I sighed again, I was destined to be alone, I guessed. No one knew the real, real me. I may be a demi-god, I may be a potential hero in Olympia. But somewhere inside of me I had an obssesion. I shut my eyes tight as if to block myself out, shut my eyes away from the light so no one could see me, despite being home alone. I needed to get out, go somewhere and just be myself for even a minute, if not that. I stood up slowly, stretching and pulling off my clothes that I had worn two days straight. The journey was definitely a long one, with distractions on the way.. I managed to find fresh clothes in my wardrobe that Mum must have left before she went, she was expecting me. I smiled to myself, I existed, I was remembered somewhere other than that God Forsaken camp. I trudged over to the mirror on the chest-of-drawers at the other end of my room, this was probably the most cleanest place in this room, the house even. It was a new addition of furniture, the thin sheet of dust told me it no less than a month old. I guess this was Mum's way of spoiling me, keeping this place just the tiniest bit less disgusting. "My God.." I gasped to myself as I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a mess, greasy and patches of goodness knows what-sticky substance were matted into my hair. Dark bags under my eyes were the result of staying up the night before, and my face was pale and drawn. Was I sick? That must be it. The obsession was taking over me slowly, my appearance, my mind were both victims of my addiction. I combed down my hair with my fingers, pulling out balls of the sticky goo out of my hair, improving my appearance a little more, I pinched my cheeks to get a little colour, it hardly worked so I sighed, straightened out my shirt and exited the room.

I groaned as I looked around, our one-floored apartment was a mess compared to my room. The ghost and remains of Gabe lingered everywhere. Beer cans, ground in muck in the carpet which in the process had turned a murky grey, it was originally light blue, if I remember correctly. There were also poker cards and chips strewn around the floor and dining table. The smell of the room was indescribable, like rotting fruit and food. It was lurking everywhere you turned your head, even if you covered your nose, the smell would still find its way to haunt you. I stumbled towards the table, shirts and newspapers were blocking my way and I even managed to tread and break something that sounded like glass. I could tell my mum was restricted to clean up this room and her only reach was my room. My chest tightened in anger, but then I relaxed knowing that I could not do anything seeing as neither Gabe or my Mother were here. I pushed aside crisp packets, empty beer cans and other pieces of rubbish aside, looking for spare change. If I wanted to go out, I needed money to get there. I found $3 and 39 cents. 'That should do' I thought, swiftly dropping them into the pocket in my jeans. I patted and combed my hair again out of self conciousness, making sure that there were no obvious signs of neglect to my hair. I checked the clock on the wall beside me, 3pm. I nodded to myself and I made my way across the room again, treading carefully as if I were to tread on a living animal. I completed the trek, grabbed the keys, opened the door, stepped outside smelling, gasping for the the fresh air and quietly locked the door and made my way towards town.

Hands in my pockets, face down I walked the streets that I used to two years before with Mum, our escape from Gabe. I longed to see my Mother again, to see her face, to hear her reassuring words. But she didn't know, I hated myself for that. She didn't know the real, real me I had only kept for myself like a greedy little boy. I knew what I was doing to myself was incredibly unhealthy, but how could I resist? Like food, air, water, love I needed it. I grunted impatiently and stopped walking, staring at the floor angrily. I needed it. I looked up, ignoring stares and whispers from various people. I raised my head slightly again, as if I were sniffing the air for something that had caught my attention. I looked around, I knew it was here, I knew it. Suddenly deciding what I was about to do, I walked in the direction I was looking in, faster I was gaining my speed, desparatley hoping that it was still there, waiting for me... I stopped walking the second time, it was there. I felt and involuntary spark of joy inside me. The shop, the place I wanted - no, _needed_ to go. I looked up at the looming, yet glorious sign above the shop window "Claries Accessories". Anyone looking at me, watching me would have thought me insane, that was what I am. Insane. Insane for what I needed and wanted so desparately. My eyes bored into the sign, this is exactly where I needed to go. I looked down, into the shop window, I saw it, my addiction, my life support lying, awaiting inside for me. I smiled maliciously, I felt happy, finally. I wandered inside, basking in what I called myself.

My trembling fingers groped the fabric, my face pressed forcefully against it, I breathed in deeply as if gasping for air, before, I was drowning. I groaned happily, lustfully. I smiled slightly, fluttering my eyelashes in bliss. I rose up from the rack and wiped my nose, this scarf had loose pieces of cotton which tickled the inside of my nose when I breathed in. I sighed in satisfaction, I felt happier and free, I felt like myself. I straightened my pose and looked around, no one had noticed. I delibrately chose the most discrete area of the winter-wear section so no one would see me. I smiled at my own craftiness. I stroked the scarf, caressing it. How much longer would this last? It was no problem untill I craved this place. My world. Did I need help? No, I was perfectly fine, I sighed through my mouth again loudly and moaned as I ducked down again to inhale the sweet smell of my addiction.

I must have lingered there for a few minutes because when I arose again, a boy, that looked around my height and age was staring at me, his face was young and soft looking, deep brown eyes bored into my skull and his sleek frame of a body was stood solid, every part of him facing my way, scarf in hand. "Uh. Was I interrupting?" He spoke in a small yet sweet, boyish voice. I blushed violently, there was no way out of this. "What are you doing here?" Was the first come-back I could think of, but it could never cover up what I was doing. He smiled cheekily and spoke again "Well, I'm buying a scarf for my sister of course. I always buy the winter-wear before Winter, there's more variety..." He trailed off, his eyes looked down at the rack of scarves. He was right, there was such a variety, and I had never been so happy with it. "So anyway, what was your face doing in these scarves? The way you were doing it was extremely perverse." He gave me an odd look while speaking. I couldn't say anything, I felt my face go impossibly red. "I...was smelling them" I admitted, for any other excuse would be complete nonsense. This awkward conversation shone a light on what I was. A psycotic freak. He laughed nervously "Well, that makes sense for sure. But whatever, my name is Simon, what's yours? If we're bothered with introductions". I wondered for a second why he was introducing himself, I shrugged it off "Percy." I replied. "Cool, Percy. So, are you going to buy a scarf, or is this a smell and run?" I looked at him sceptically. I was no way answering that. "Are you going to buy that scarf?" I said avoiding his question, this was by far the smartest thing I had said, speaking to Simon. He pushed his dark brown hair back and laughed nervously again, and I could swear I smelt a sweet familar smell as he moved.."Well...I'm still deciding.." He said hesitantly. I raised an eyebrow, he was hiding something. "Really? Why don't you choose then? You haven't bothered to look since you've been talking to me it seems" I said, feeling dominant, my face was less and less red and I forgot my humilation. Interrogating Simon was making me feel better about myself, hiding away from people's points of view. He looked up into my eyes again, looking embarrassed but upset and troubled. The smell I smelt on him had become all too familar, it was the smell of what I was just burrowing my face in, scarves.

I looked back at him with a suprised look. Had he too been doing like my shameful act? I could tell he wanted to speak, but his face was readable; lost for words and incredibly humiliated. I dared to ask another question "That scarf...it isn't for your sister...Is it?" I managed to ask, I expected him to lash out. I would have done if I were in his position, being exposed for something what was truely him. I felt like I could understand him. What was I thinking? I didn't know Simon. At the same time I felt drawn to him, he was like me. Most probably alone too, no one who knew the real him, neither did I notice how amazing he looked, his white shirt and dark slender jeans enhanced his slim yet muscular shape. He didn't attack, he just simply stood. My stance softened, almost to jelly, for before it was a rigid facade to hide my humiliation. "..No, it's for.." Simon managed to utter, he couldn't finish his sentence. "You. I know." I said seriously, his face turned apologetic. I noticed how much more understanding I was compared to him when he found out about me. He sighed submissively. "I'm sorry. This is me. This is -" He broke off and his voice wavered. He covered his face with the scarf and his body shook with what I could make out as sobs. Involuntarily I reached out my hand to his shoulder to comfort him, "It's ok" I spoke in a whisper, no idea what I was saying or about to say. "Me too"

Simon's sobbing stopped and he looked up at me with his now red, puffy eyes and blushing cheeks. We stood there in awkward silence, even with this face flooded and streaked with tears, he still looked beautiful, innocent. I smiled the best I could, anything to stop him from crying again. He then used the scarf to wipe away the wet on his face, and threw it on the ground as if it were now dirt. I could tell he resented himself. I didn't want him to, this wasn't fair, surely the two of us could make it to be the only two people with this unique need. After moments of thought I could tell he was latched onto me, as if he wanted me to stay, he was still staring up at my face as if he was asking me with his eyes; 'What do I do?' 'What am I doing?' I smiled again to soften his face, and succeeded. He momentarily looked down as if he was going to resurface with his cheeky smile again, instead, Simon raised his head to look at me again with serious eyes. I looked back into his, taken in by the soul in them, enchanting and beautiful, matched him perfectly. He glanced at my lips. My heart lurched 'No..' I thought. 'I couldn't be..' My face was frozen in a blank stare. The sudden realisation of what I really, really was came to me, not only did I have a serious addiction...I was also attracted to Simon. His face slowly came towards mine, his small, pink lips were slightly parted. They looked so soft...My eyes were closed and a soft, sweet taste touched my lips.

I couldn't tell whether my face was still in a blank stare or not, I couldn't think, I couldn't feel..I didn't know how long it lasted until he pulled away slowly, I couldn't resist licking the inside of my lips to taste him again. He smiled cheekily again, he looked relieved. I smiled back, exhaling loudly and laughing in breaths. After a while he spoke again "I'm sorry, you're the only one who knows.." I could tell he was referring to both _it_ and me, I smiled, embarrassed again and replied with "You too, you're secret's safe with me Simon" "And you Percy." He breathed, he kissed me on the cheek and turned to leave the shop, Simon disappeared in the crowd of the street, among everyone. We were really like anyone else, I figured. This was the first time in the afternoon that I had overlooked everything. As if everything was in my head. As if a mystery that only I could understand.


End file.
